Saved
by Merciful Heavens
Summary: The time has come in Minerva McGonagall's mind to end the suffering she is living under...who will save her and how? Minerva/Gandalf. Chapter 16 is posted...
1. Candles

_Saved by Suicide_

Steam rose from the bath and mingled with the floating scent of lavender. A soft sigh escaped the reclining woman in the large swirling water. Whispered words in Gaelic echoed through the large bathroom. It was neither a picture of peace nor contentment; but rather one of sorrow. Each word that Minerva whispered was one said in pain; a pain so deeply felt that not even her native tongue could fully say it.

Professor McGonagall hated baths. She hated being immersed in water, period. Showers in themselves were five minutes when she took them and water was only used to wash away the shampoo and soap. Therefore the reasoning behind the Transfiguration Professor's bath had nothing to do with pleasure or even cleanliness.

Ironically, she had no plans to ever leave the faintly bumbling water. Although Minerva knew that no one at Hogwarts, or in the wizard world, would understand her desire to end her life; it did not faze her in the slightest.

She had taught more than three generations of students. Each year became harder for her as more and more of her former students joined the long list of dead. They seemed to all trust her with the task of teaching their children. It seemed ironic that the woman who had never even been on a date was a mother figure to more people than could be counted.

It was for a reason that none of her colleagues or students, neither current nor former, would ever even speculate…Minerva McGonagall had nothing left to live for.

The steam relaxed her slightly but still she remained resolved to finish what she had decided to start. Fear crept into her mind but what was left of her stubbornness drove it out. She would not die afraid. She had been afraid for too long.

Without taking another life giving breath, Minerva slipped under the water's warm surface.

Her eyes closed as she became immersed in the water and at first the panic that naturally rose in her mind made it difficult to stay under the water. But she could make herself do anything. Logically she had not taken her final bath in her birthday suit, as Minerva knew that someone would have to have the dreary job of fishing her out of the water. Her heavy tartan robes weighed her light frame down and she sunk to rest on the bottom of the tub.

Faces flashed through her mind like too many choices on a menu. First flashed Albus Dumbledore, former Headmaster of Hogwarts. He had been Minerva's first and only love; yet never more than her very best friend. Like so many before him, Albus was dead.

After Albus' smiling face had vanished, James and Lily Potter both appeared. Minerva had taught them, given them detentions and even scolded them for snogging in the most inappropriate places and times. Then she had taught their son, Harry. It had always amazed her how much alike Harry and James had been. But they had one very large difference to help her keep them apart. James was dead and Harry wasn't.

More faces flashed through her mind causing her great pain as she had witnessed many of their deaths. None had died peacefully in their sleep.

Suddenly as death disguised as darkness reached out to take her into its grip, Minerva decided to continue living. It was the memory, ironically, of all the dead that changed her mind. She found that as she remembered each person that they had all died valiantly or had died to save someone else. It seemed a waste to throw her life away.

Only one little thing hindered Minerva's recanting…her robes were much too heavy.

**The next chapter has already been written and I will post it, if I already have not.**

**Cheerio,**

**Merciful Heavens**


	2. Gandalf's Catch

Chapter II

Gandalf's Catch

Gandalf walked down the path that Elves, an age pass, had carved from the tangled forest. His breathing was heavy as he had walked long, but perseverance drove him on. His long grey robes swished as the light wind blew through them. His tall pointed hat narrowly missed grazing a few overhead branches.

Soon he knew that the peace that encompassed the forest would be nothing but a long forgotten memory. The rumors of Sauron's return to Mordor were indeed without lie and it weighed heavily on his heart that soon he would be deeply involved in a struggle to over throw the dark lord. But that would be later; now he had a few decades of peace.

As he walked through the day filled forest, Gandalf felt a bit of his worries lift. A small smile graced his wise face and the solid staff that he had long had with him tapped on the ground in a steady rhythm.

Birds sang beautiful ballads all around his head, perched high in the trees. His quick pace slowly became less hurried as he began to enjoy the nature around him.

Gandalf finally stopped to rest as an un-named pond came into his view. The water was clean and inviting to the weary wizard. Slowly making his way to its bank, he knelt and reached down to cup some water. But as his arm plunged into the cool water of the pond something un-expectantly grabbed it.

Startled to say the least, Gandalf pulled his arm back, unwillingly bringing the something along with it.

A person was brought to the surface by his quick yank; but began to sink as weak fingers unlatched from his arm. Caring as always, Gandalf reached down into the water and pulled the person up and out of the pond.

Heavy from the water that soaked the person's clothing, Gandalf set his catch down on the grass. Turning the person around, he found that it was a woman.  
Soaked long hair, the color of night streaked with delicate silver, stuck to her pale skin. She was a tall woman, Gandalf quickly noticed, tall but delicately built with a very slender waist.

Her clothing was a dark green material that did not flatter her build in the slightest, but had become much more form fitting in its soaked state. Gandalf smiled slightly, thankful that he had paused to drink at the little pond. Evidentially, the woman had fallen into the pond. Whether her heavy robes had not allowed her to surface or if she had not been able to swim, Gandalf did not know.

Pressing a strong hand against her chest, Gandalf felt her heart beat. A sigh escaped his lips as her pale face had caused him worry. An additional check to her weak but nonetheless present pulse, allowed the wizard to smile.

A bird chirped above in a tree. Darkness was beginning to descend on the day. Not knowing what else to do with his recently saved damsel, Gandalf carefully picked her up and into his arms. Although her wet robes made carrying her a burden, Gandalf regained his normal pace easily finding the physical burden much lighter than any other he had every carried.


	3. Minerva

Chapter III

Gandalf sat amid the darkness the night naturally evoked and puffed thoughtfully on the long pipe that had long been in his possession. Unknown to him, his dark eyes glowed in the small light thrown off by the fire a mere pace from him, giving him an almost sinister look. He was staring intently at the wrapped form of the sleeping woman, his mind trying to weave the labyrinth of her mysterious appearance in the pond into a properly understood explanation.

"Quite a riddle." he muttered to himself, blowing a normally shaped smoke ring out to dance across the dark air. "Most odd just being there."

After fishing the woman from the pond, Gandalf had walked until it had grown dark and then weary of walking and tired, he had made a small fire and laid his burden down wrapped nicely in his grey cloak. Her pale colour had caused him to remain awake, as he feared she might stop breathing in the night. The darkness had not allowed him to check her health thoroughly but he had already decided to rectify that at first light.

Soon the pale light given out by a few uncovered stars was replaced by a full complete darkness and Gandalf felt his eyes grow heavy with want of sleep. Finally after having sat for many long hours, the good wizard leaned back against a tree and rested.

It was early in the morning when he woke and the sun had yet to rise behind her haven behind the mountains and seas. Rising up from his position on the grass, the man stretched and sighed as he felt much better after his brief but nonetheless enjoyable rest. The small fire was now but a pile of glowing coals and due to the air being strong, Gandalf set to returning it to its former glory.

Suddenly as the fire leaped back into existence, Gandalf heard a gasp behind him. Turning, he found the woman sitting up staring at him with wide green eyes. Shock was written clearly in her face and for a moment he was not sure what to do.

"Where am I?" She demanded weakly, her manner of speaking immediately telling the wizard something about her. She had courage.

"In the middle of the wood, if I'm not mistaken." He paused as her eyes glanced around her. "A better question might be how did you arrive here?" Gandalf rose his bushy eyebrows and chuckled softly as the woman turned her questioning glare back to him.

"Very well. Then, how did I arrive here?" Her voice was almost breakable it sounded so cold and Gandalf immediately wondered who she was to have such an obviously regal aura about her.

"I was hoping you might tell me." He sat not too far from her and pulled his pipe out once more. "I pulled you from a bog not far from here. Clear water, but quite deep. Swimming were we?" The woman ignored his subtle attempt at humour.

"A bog?" Her voice had lost most of its iciness and Gandalf nodded in reply. She attempted to rise from the ground, but her strength failed her.

"Who are you?"

"I am Gandalf the Grey. A traveller you might call me for now." He pulled his pipe out of his mouth. "And your name, my lady."

"I wouldn't know what to tell you." She stammered, seemingly out of character. "This place is different."

Accustomed to people of the sadly, odd, category of people, Gandalf waited patiently for her to continue. And she did as he knew she would.

"Minerva."


	4. Off to Hobbiton

Saved

Chapter IV

After becoming certain that Minerva was well enough to travel with him, Gandalf assisted the woman to her feet and they began to walk into the wood.

It had been a long time since the wizard had had a travelling companion and he greatly enjoyed the sound of the woman's slippered feet beside him.

His mind wandered over the vast possibility that the woman was rather eccentric. But since he was not one to judge at first glance, Gandalf decided to become better acquainted with Minerva.

But before he could ask his first question, Minerva stumbled over a tree root and fell to the ground. Rather sore at himself for not catching her, Gandalf helped her up.

"I didn't see it." she mumbled, softly. Gandalf looked back over the ground to find the root sticking up out of the ground. It was easily seen and he became worried about the lady.

Minerva's mind was having a hard time grasping what was going on around her. One moment she had been preparing to kill herself and then she had tried to escape the water only to be pulled out of her bath tub onto a pond's bank by a man who was obviously not from her world. _Gandalf the Grey, what an odd name._ she thought. Her glasses were not on her and she was having a rather hard time seeing somethings.

However she had not missed how much this Gandalf person looked like Albus. His voice sounded very similar as well and it brought tears to her eyes when he helped her up and offered her his steady arm. A perfect gentleman; just like Albus.

Gandalf did not miss the tears that sparkled in the lady's eyes. They did not fall, but he was certain that some great sadness had clouded her mind.

As they slowly moved along, he guiding her as one might help a blind child and her trusting him to not let her fall, Gandalf began to create a plan in his mind.

He would take her with him to Hobbiton. Along the way to Bilbo's birthday party, he could drop by a village, not a hobbit one, and pick up some needed items for her. Even though he hardly knew her and it didn't appear as though he would anytime soon, Gandalf already planned to keep her safe.

"Where are you going?" Minerva asked, rather embarrassed that she had just thought to ask.

"To Hobbiton. You may come with me if you like." His large bushy eyebrows lifted in a careful scrutiny and she felt she almost had to say she would go with him. He reminded her so much of Albus and if she had fallen into another world; didn't she deserve to be a little more happier?

"I will go with you." she said softly.


	5. The Road Goes Ever On

Chapter V- this chapter is for micha!!! forgive the many mistakes

They walked until they came to a small stream. Gandalf then turned in another direction, and they continued to walk.

As they walked, Gandalf began to ask Minerva questions and answer any questions she might ask him.

"What do you call where you came from?" He asked after finding out she could practice magic with a wand and that she taught said magic in a large school.

"I come from the country of Scotland, but the school is called Hogwarts." She then paused to consider what she wanted to know about him.

"What brought you to that bog?" Minerva asked finally, as Gandalf easily lifted her over a fallen log.

"Refreshment, dear lady. I had travelled long and was in need of rest."

They said no more until Gandalf led Minerva out of the wood and onto a small road.

"This road leads into Bree. It is a village on the outskirts of the Shire. Once we get my cart and horse, we will continue on through the Old Forest and then the Brandywine bridge. From there our travels will turn toward Hobbiton where my good friend, Bilbo Baggins, is having his 111th birthday. Naturally it is a special birthday and I greatly desire to see him again."

Minerva nodded silently and offered a brief smile. It was simple enough to follow what the wizard was saying, but the places were strange sounding and unfamiliar.

Gandalf then realized when Minerva said nothing, that she had no idea where those places were or who the people were. He began a rather lengthy narration of how he had met Bilbo Baggins and their journey to the Lone Mountain. Minerva asked every now and then for an explanation, but for the most part she listened in silence.

Suddenly just as Gandalf was explaining how Bilbo and the dwarves had stowed away in apple barrels; Minerva interrupted.

"What is a Hobbit?" Gandalf stopped walking as her words floated about his mind and then thought about his answer. Hobbits were a subject he rarely got the chance to converse on, but he always enjoyed it.

"Hobbits are little people, smaller than dwarfs. They love peace and quiet and good tilled earth. They dislike machines but are handy with tools. They are nimble but don't like to hurry. They have sharp ears and eyes. They are inclined to be fat. They wear bright colours but seldom wear shoes. They like to laugh and eat (six meals a day) and drink. They like parties and they like to give and receive presents. They inhabit a land they call The Shire, a place between the River Brandywine and the Far Downs."

They were silent after that, listening to the chirps and pleasures of nature around continued down the road until they came to a small village, where Gandalf procured a wagon of sorts from someone who had been holding it for him and a horse to pull it.

Minerva silently watched, saddened by how fuzzy her vision was, as Gandalf and the unnamed peasant piled oddly shaped and coloured parcels into the back of the wagon and covered them neatly with a cloth. Raising her eyebrows, she silently as the wizard to explain himself, which he did while chuckling.

"Fireworks, my lady." he said simply, helping her up onto the wagon's shelf like seat and seating himself next to her. "For a friend of mine's very special birthday." He clicked at the horse and they started down yet another windy road.

"Who is your friend again?" Minerva asked, holding onto Gandalf's arm to keep from bouncing out of the wagon. The road was rather bumpy and obviously they had never heard of suspension. Minerva at that moment longed for her wand.

"A Bilbo Baggins of the Shire, same one as the one with the dwarves. It is his 111th birthday and I have known him long enough to attend gladly."

"That seems rather old for someone to be." Minerva exclaimed, shocked. From what Gandalf had told her of hobbits, they didn't sound long lived.

"Indeed." the wizard said, sounding mysteriously thoughtful. "Of course hobbits are a very odd bunch. Just when you think you know them, they surprise you."

Minerva had lived long enough to detect when someone was hiding something, and Albus, she winced at his constant memory, had been constantly hiding enough to make her almost desperate for truth.

Gandalf glanced over at the nearly blind woman beside him and felt his spirits drop. He had hoped that there would be something in Bree that he could get her, but there had been nothing. The traveling merchants that might have what she needed, had not been there and no one knew when they would be arriving. Sight was a precious sense and he would have struggled greatly without it. Of course, he figured, forcing his eyes back on the road, she was probably more than preceptive enough without her sight. She could barely even see him and yet those dark green eyes seemed to be peeling his mind into segments for her own pleasure.

They rode in simple silence for a while. Minerva often found herself comparing the countryside with that of her beloved Scotland only to find that there was little lacking as it was stunningly beautiful. Fatigue from the long walk through the wood and to the village began to catch up with her as she struggled to not fall out of the wagon and soon Gandalf found himself holding her up with his arm and body.

Stopping the horse, he smiled at the sleeping woman and situated her so that each jolt from the wagon did not threaten to toss her. It was a strange feeling; someone sleeping against his shoulder. Yet not one that he found displeasurable.

Minerva awoke just as they entered a deeply cut road and Gandalf offered her his arm again as she yawned covering her mouth.

"You have nothing against music I hope?" Gandalf asked, kindly, hoping to hum and sing a song or two. She nodded that she didn't and listened intently as he began to hum.

"The Road goes ever on and on

Down from the door where it began.

Now far ahead the Road has gone,

And I must follow, if I can,

Pursuing it with eager feet,

Until it joins some larger way

Where many paths and errands meet.

And whither then? I cannot say."

He was on his way to beginning the song all over again when Minerva gasped softly and he heard a familiar voice say "You're late."

Rising his head and bringing the horse to stand still, Gandalf replied to the dark haired hobbit. "A wizard is never late, Frodo Baggins. Nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means to." They tried to hold serious expressions for a brief moment until Frodo launched himself at the wizard, crying how happy he was to see him.

Minerva smiled as the young man embraced Gandalf. Obviously Frodo was a relative of the Bilbo Baggins she had heard so much about. It pained her though when she noticed how alike it seemed that Gandalf and Frodo... Albus and Harry. Tears came unbidden to her eyes as her mind tried to unscramble jumbled thoughts.

"Minerva, this is Frodo Baggins, Bilbo's nephew." She smiled at him and although he seemed surprised to see her, he returned the gesture.


	6. Hogwarts

First of all, I must apologize to my dear readers. I suppose some of you missed the fact that Albus Dumbledore is indeed dead (Gandalf would not get Minerva is he was still around) and that the war is over. Now for Hogwarts POV.

Chapter six

Argus Filch knocked on the Headmistress's door. His lips were curled in distaste and his cat, Mrs. Norris was licking her paws at his feet. He had only a five minutes before caught two Ravenclaws doing rather inappropriate activities in a corridor and was now anxious to find out what ghastly punishment he could give them.

"Maybe she's asleep." He said looking down at his precious cat. Mrs. Norris ignored him though and continued with some much-needed cleaning. Slightly annoyed at McGonagall for not answering the door, Filch turned and made his way down the hallway. Surely, he thought, she couldn't go to sleep that quickly. But that was it! She was ignoring him. Argus liked to think the worst of people.

Suddenly the whole hallway shook violently and Filch, thinking an attack was imminent dove to protect his beloved kitty. She hissed low at the undesired protection, but he remained over her until the shaking subsided. Getting back to his feet, Filch glanced back at the Headmistress's chambers. He didn't have to be Sherlock to figure out it had come from McGonagall's rooms.

Soon the patter of shoes against stone echoed down the hallway and Filch was almost happy to see several staff members come into view. Pomona Sprout, Rolanda Hooch, and Filius Flitwick, being the only actual teachers at Hogwarts, due to various reasons, hurried to see what had caused the disturbance.

"Did that come from Minerva's rooms?" Professor Sprout asked Filch. He nodded dumbly and watched as Rolanda Hooch beat her hand against the door.

"Open the door, Minerva!" she shouted. She muttered something about Gryffindor stubbornness and then chuckled when she discovered the door was unlocked.

"Well, look at that."

Looking worried, since Minerva never left her door unlocked, the three professors along with Filch, entered the Headmistress's chambers and looked around as if they expected Voldemort himself to be sitting on the couch having tea.

"Check the bedroom, Pomona." Rolanda suggested. "I'll take the bathroom." Filius continued to look around the sitting room and then made his way into the office, that adjoined the chambers.

Feeling rather useless, Argus leaned against the wall and tried to be inconspicuous.

"She's not here!" Pomona called from the bedroom, exited rather hurriedly. A slightly muffled call from Filius repeated what Pomona had discovered.

Rolanda Hooch opened the bathroom door and poked her head in. Surprised she saw a fully drawn bath complete with bubbles. Knowing that Minerva disliked baths, she began to sweat. The dripping candles around the tub looked sad and rather forlorn, like ghosts of their former erect bodies. Rolanda entered the bathroom and went over to the tub, looking down into the bubbles.

For a moment, brief as a blink, she saw Minerva at the bottom and then as something was pulling her into the tub, she vanished. Rolanda's mouth dropped open and she reached into the water to grab her friend. Her arm went much further than the bottom of the tub and she touched some sort of cloth. Relieved that she had procured her friend, the flight instructor yanked up.

But instead of Minerva McGonagall, Rolanda pulled a short rather heavy young man out of the water.

"Who are you?" she shrieked. The man blinked and gasped several times, as he was dripping wet and freezing.

"Samwise Gamgee. Where am I?"

Short? yes... Review?...please


	7. Bilbo Baggins

Saved

Chapter VII

Rolanda stared speechless at the young man she had just yanked out of Minerva's bathtub.

"How'd you get in the tub?" she asked. It was a rather silly question, but she felt determined to get to the bottom of things. The Headmistress of Hogwarts was missing, having disappeared through the bottom of her bathtub and some Samwise Gamgee had taken her place. Needless to say, Rolanda was far from happy.

"What tub?" he asked, looking around, his eyes wide and full of fear. Rolanda grabbed his jacket by the back and pointed at the tub.

"That tub! Now what did you do with Minerva McGonagall?" Poor Sam just stood there, mouth hanging slightly open.

"Nothing, honest!" Sam returned. By then Pomona had entered the bathroom and two wands were pointed at the quivering hobbit's neck.

"What's this?" The Herbology professor asked, her wand gesturing toward Sam. Rolanda sighed.

"Minerva...disappeared into the bottom of the...bathtub." she explained. Pomona gave her a you-cannot-be-serious look and then glanced into the tub. Water had been splashed all over when Sam had been yanked out but she could clearly see the solid bottom of the tub through the soapy water.

"I don't see how..." Pomona murmured. Rolanda jabbed her wand into Sam's side.

"We'll soon find out." she threatened lowly.

***

Minerva sat quietly by Gandalf's side as the horse slowly made its way through what was referred to as Hobbiton. Frodo had bade them a good day, saying how glad he was to meet Minerva and how wonderful it was to have Gandalf back.

She took this to mean that Gandalf had not visited the hobbits in some time, but refrained from asking him about it. The blurry images about her were distorted and difficult to make out, but she felt from the bumping of the cart and Gandalf's encouraging words to the horse that they were going up a hill.

The cart came to a halt and Gandalf descended from the seat, helping Minerva down moments later. He led her through a gate and up a short walkway until they reached a round green door with a knob directly in the centre on it. Minerva blinked several times to be certain she was not seeing things, as most knobs were put in a different location.

Gandalf knocked on the door with his staff and immediately a rather grouchy voice responded. "No thank you! We don't want anymore visitors, well-wishers, or distant relations!"

Gandalf chuckled softly, although Minerva didn't see what was funny about what had just been yelled at him. "And how about very old friends?" the wizard asked, obviously still amused. The door opened soon after and an older hobbit emerged, overjoyed to see Gandalf and surprised to find that he had brought someone with him.

After a few exchanged greetings, Gandalf led Minerva into the home with a warning to watch her head. Ironically he bumped his own head only moments after entering.

Soon the three of them were carefully seated around a low table in the kitchen, with Bilbo constantly bustling about getting tea or some other treat. It was apparent to Minerva that hobbits ate a great deal.

"You mean to go through with your plan then?" Gandalf murmured, looking at Bilbo. The elderly hobbit nodded. Whatever was said next, Minerva missed as her mind fell into a daydream.

She saw Harry Potter so valiantly fighting Voldemort; Molly Weasley crying over her dead son; Hagrid carrying Albus' limp body... the images swirled about her and she slipped from the chair.


	8. Weary Witchcraft

**Thank you for your kind reviews and patience... the next chapter will be posted soon as well... updates will continue =)**

**~Merci**

_Chapter Eight- Weary Witchcraft _

"You expect me to believe that you were 'just collecting reeds'!" Rolanda all but shrieked, her face centimeters from Sam's nose. The small man nodded, holding tightly to a wet dripping hat of sorts and looking as though he had died and gone to the fiery abyss.

"Rolanda, do try to be polite." Filius whispered, smiling apologetically at Sam. "Now just ask him nicely and do stop being so cross."

"Cross?! I'm not cross yet. Samfool Gambee just sucked Minerva through her bathtub and you are telling me to be polite. I say we do him in." Her yellow eyes lit up with fiery passion and Sam swallowed hard, attempting to back up but finding the wall rather unrelenting.

"Stop it, you sound so petulant." Pomona sighed. "I don't think young Samwise here is to blame. I mean look at the poor child, shaking like a leaf."

"You would too if you'd just murdered someone!" Rolanda snapped back, nevertheless having to mentally admit that her colleague had a point.

"Where am I?" Sam asked, daring to pose a question now that the wild grey haired witch with yellow eyes had stopped poking him with her pencil.

The smaller man, who had smiled, suddenly looked flustered as he and the round woman with messy hair exchanged glances.

"Scotland. At Hogwarts School of Witchcraft." Pomona offered.

At "Witchcraft", poor Sam's eyes widened. All he knew of magic was that told in stories and fireworks. He knew better than to bother those who studied it and knew most normal folk lived by the same principle. Now he had fallen into a pit with them.

"Where are you from, lad?" Filius asked.

"The Shire." Sam replied, feeling a bit more confused but at the same timed trying to be respectful.

"Oh I've had enough!" Rolanda shouted, stomping out of the bathroom. Filius and Pomona hurried after her, gently dragging Sam along.

Only one thought was flitting through Samwise Gamgee's mind at that moment and that was survival.

***

"My goodness!" Bilbo gasped, nearly dropping the cup he held. Gandalf rose in a swoop of grey to catch Minerva, but the table stood in the way and her head made a rather nasty thump against the stone floor.

Kneeling beside her, Gandalf gently lifted her up into his arms as Bilbo motioned toward one of the many guest rooms, that had been fitted with a larger or more so longer bed for the strange big folk who lived outside the Shire.

"I'll get a cool cloth." Bilbo offered, hurrying out to find the materials.

Gandalf nodded, laying his newest friend out on the soft bed and gently covering her lithe body with the coverlet.

"Weary are you..." he murmured, catching himself only after he had brushed her hair from her face. "So very weary." he repeated, setting his large hand against her cheek, glad to feel its warmth.

She was beautiful in his eyes. Not the sultry beauty of many mortal women, or the doelike mystery of the elven maids, but a beauty of her own. She was aged, that he knew by her deep eyes and soulful manners. The delicate wrinkles around her eyes and the tighter lines about her thin mouth.

He knew very little of the "Scotland" she came from; but was certain that she was no doubt a descendent of their royal house, her bearing being too regal.

"You have bewitched me." Gandalf chuckled, finding it odd that his weary lips muttered such words.


	9. Collecting Reed

_**Chapter Nine**_

_Collecting Reeds and Hair Clasps_

Filius and Pomona sat Sam down in Minerva's sitting room, conjured him a cup of tea, dried his clothes and urged him to take his time telling them what happened. Rolanda stood in the sitting room doorway, scowling at the wall, arms crossed and obviously unhappy.

"Yeah, that'll help. Coddle the boy." she muttered, hating the fact that it appeared to be working, as Sam stopped shaking.

"Thank you." he nodded, causing both Filius and Pomona to smile.

"I'm Filius by the way and this is Pomona." Filius offered, hoping their simple first names would put Sam at ease, instead of the confusion of last names and titles.

"Rolanda's bark is worse than her bite, so no need to worry, love." Pomona assured him, refilling his cup.

Sam was not sure if he believed that, but he nodded nonetheless.

"I was collecting reeds for my old Gaffer." Sam began again...before Rolanda had interrupted at that moment, this time she only rolled her eyes. "And I slipped and fell into the murky water. Next I know she was pulling me up and yelling at me."

Filius scratched his little head.

"Queer." was all he said as he attempted to understand what had been said.

"Perhaps another dimension?" Pomona wondered aloud, having always enjoyed science fiction and loving the idea of a portal of sorts.

"Yeah... I'm sure. So Samdumb Geewee, are you from Landscot on planet Htrae? And don't tell me... you walk backwards instead of forewards... you drink your steak and chew your soup..." she was thankfully cut off by a rather annoyed Filius.

"Professor Hooch!" he admonished. "Maybe so, but slightly different I would believe. I've read somewhere about something like this happening. However it was with dreams and memories."

Mouth open, Sam listened to the man rattle off about the possibilities of travelling through one's dreams, memories and into other worlds. It shocked him how intelligent this Filius was... or how intelligent he sounded. So far not a word made sense.

"This Shire of yours, where is it?" Filius asked.

"Um... the river B-" Pomona gently interrupted.

"No, dear, the whole place is called what?" she soothed.

"Middle-Earth."

A chuckle wafted from Rolanda.

"Figures..."

***

Minerva blinked as she awoke to find herself in a dark room in an unfamiliar bed. There was an odd smell about her, rather musky and it frightened her. Gripping the coverlet tightly she glanced about for a light, a door or a window. Her blurry vision both from lack of glasses and having just awoken caused her to miss those sought for comforts.

The memory of having been seated at Bilbo Baggins' table with Gandalf washed over her and Minerva calmed slightly. She must have fallen asleep and they had moved her to the room. How kind, she thought, feeling foolish for sitting in the bed frightened of shadows and scents.

"How do you feel?" Gandalf's deep soothing voice asked, seemingly coming from nowhere. Although she did her best not to appear startled, a brief chuckle followed by his lighting of a tall candle told her Gandalf had noticed.

"Better, thank you. Did I fall asleep?" she asked, abashed.

"You fell." Gandalf murmured matter-of-factly. He was not convinced that she had merely been bored with their conversation and fallen asleep. No, he saw the weariness like a cloak about her narrow shoulders every time he looked into her emerald eyes.

"I am sorry to have caused you trouble." Minerva climbed out of the bed, glad when her legs held her up without incident. "You have been very kind to me."

"It has been my pleasure and a continued one, I hope." Gandalf chuckled, finding it humorous that she was apologizing when he was the one who had allowed her to fall.

Minerva said nothing, merely smiling delicately.

"Bilbo was quite worried his tea was the cause of your fall..." he subtly hinted, pushing the round door open and offering her his arm. Minerva gasped lightly.

"His tea was excellent, by far nothing to do with my health." She assured him, taking his arm and leaving the room after gently smoothing her hair. Later on, she thought, she would have to braid or bind it somehow.

It took all of ten minutes to convince the flustered hobbit host that he had not in fact poisoned Minerva, much to his obvious relief. After kindly inviting her to his party, Bilbo went to his study to complete some final party details, leaving Minerva and Gandalf alone.

"Here." Minerva turned to face the wizard noting his outstretched hand and the delicate silverish hair clasp he was holding. Her eyes widened, it was as if he had read her mind. So uncannily like Albus... but then again so different. Like some sort of ironic paradox.

"Thank you." she smiled, taking the clasp. Her vision made is impossible to see the intricate details, but her fingers felt that it was a work of the finest artisans. Practiced fingers quickly gathered up her hair and she flipped it into a loose twist, sliding the clasp into place and securing it with a whispered strand of wandless magic.

Gandalf watched her with a wistful expression caught somewhere between amusement and unidentifiable emotion.

"Do stop staring." Minerva requested, noticing his deep eyes were boring into her. Gandalf said nothing, but his eyes slowly left her to gaze about.

"Did you fall into the bog, my dear?" he asked, eyes suddenly meeting hers. Gryffindor courage was all that held her up as she saw another pair of blue eyes gazing at her with a similar question on his lips.

"Are you certain about this, Minerva?" Albus had asked. And as they usually did, whenever she stubbornly pushed for something and he obstinately pushed back...they had fought. A verbal spar had been their final words to each other; before Snape had extinguished the life of the greatest wizard of all time to save the life of Draco Malfoy.

"No..." she could not lie to him, refused to fight him, would not make the same mistake twice. This man, stranger slowly turning to friend, was not going to ever find her overly stubborn. Her spirit in such manners had been broken.

Gandalf watched the flames flare to life in her dark eyes but then die as she gave into answering his question. In even the short time he had known her, he had already decided she was a strong woman and it irked him that something weighed so heavily on her to make her appear less than strong. In such dark times, he found himself thinking. For indeed, though decades might last of peace... he felt the darkness coming, perhaps even closer than he had guessed it.


	10. Nostalgic Dragons

**Chapter 10**

_Nostalgic Dragons_

It took all of ten minutes for Sam to explain that he had indeed not "made up" Middle Earth and that no he did not walk backwards instead of forwards; a fact that oddly enough seemed to disappoint Pomona as well as Filius.

"Fine." Rolanda threw up her hands in defeat. "So if he's from Middle Earth and isn't even the same species as us... where's Minerva?"

Filius groaned softly, rubbing his wrinkled forehead with a hand.

"I would gather that she is where Mr. Gamgee came from." he ventured.

"They replaced each other!?" Rolanda exclaimed, only Pomona's arm keeping her from attacking Sam. "Not much of a trade in my opinion." she huffed, retaking her seat at the herbology professor's insistence.

"Rolanda! Honestly!" Pomona sighed. "I agree it is unusual but think of the man's feelings."

"He's not a man... he's a boy and he's not even a human one at that." Rolanda whined. Filius cleared his throat; reminding his fellow colleagues that he himself was not fully human. Not that one could truly look at the tiny professor and not remember that fact.

"What ever he is, he is a person and therefore worthy of our tact." A snort from Rolanda dared not agree with him.

"How am I going to get back?" Sam asked, venturing the question only because the yellow eyes finally drifted from him to the window.

"Just click your shoes together and say 'there's no place like home'..." Rolanda sneered.

Pomona giggled.

"What's so funny?" Pomona covered her mouth.

"You just reminded me of Snape is all..."

Rolanda's mouth fell open. "I did not!"

Filius sighed... a storm was coming and he preferred dry weather to thunderclouds.

"Please... this is about getting Minerva back here and young Samwise back there. Not about the Wizard of Id." He admonished.

"Oz. And don't use that tone with me." Pomona returned, dusting her robes off, which as usual had a film of dusty earth on them. She did her best to remain clean, but they always seemed to pick up soil. "I was only making a point."

"Well point elsewhere then." Rolanda huffed, truthfully she felt slightly nostalgic. Severus Snape was dead after all and the simple times when he had been nothing but an annoying git had come and gone. Now he and many others that came to mind along with his memory were buried and slowly but surely the grass was growing; blades of blissful requiem.

Filius folded his small hands.

"Perhaps if Minerva, on her side of the portal, if indeed it is a portal, came through at the same time Samwise from out side went out... they could return as they were before."

Three pairs of eyes blinked ignorantly at the Deputy.

"So...they'd have to be at the bathtub and marsh?" Pomona asked.

"Well, I am not certain if Minerva went to the marsh where he was collecting reeds. After all, Mr. Gamgee does not recall seeing the Headmistress on his way through and Rolanda pulled him through a good several minutes after Minerva went through her side."

"But how in Merlin's name would we get Minerva to go to where ever she needs to go!" Rolanda asked, the edge unmistakable.

"Be patient, Ro. Filius is still thinking." Pomona hushed.

"Ah, but that's assuming Minerva went to the Shire in Middle Earth to replace Samwise." Rolanda slapped her head at Filius continued mutterings. This might take awhile...

---

Minerva had never been a great party lover; but she found herself utterly charmed by the hobbits' party antics. They seemed adorably unspoiled as they laughed, danced, talked and ate; almost akin to children in an untainted part of life. She couldn't remember ever having been to a party before and feeling joyful. Of course... there had been those few parties that she had attended with Albus, but never "with" him and never just him.

She had been asked only a small handful of questions by several curious hobbits, all wanting to know her name, where she was from and by what manner she had come to the Shire. Most had been delighted to hear that she had come with Gandalf, as if his business was a great source of local gossip; which from what she had heard so far, they kept very good track of. And all had welcomed her with their cheerful bows and hearty greetings. Enough food had been passed her way throughout the short time she'd been there to feed half of Hogwarts and she began to start linking Hobbits to House-elves in her mind; despite the physical and social differences.

It was rather difficult to note every feature of the party, as she would have liked, due to her vision, but Gandalf had carefully depicted everything she had asked about in intricate yet succinct as time was a precious commodity. He appeared to be enjoying himself as well as she watched him light several smaller fireworks for the children, his deep chuckles wafting through the air as the butterflies and children danced.

He had a gentle kind heart. That much she had seen, even without her glasses. The manner in which he spoke to her and assisted her spoke volumes and although they had only known each other for a short time, she felt as though she had known him for far longer. Oh the follies of time and age.

"Are you enjoying yourself, my dear?" Gandalf asked, suddenly beside her seat. She smiled, nodding.

"Yes, it is a splendid party." She thought she saw someone or something climb into Gandalf's cart, parked not far away, but waved it off as a figment of her imagination.

Many of the younger hobbits were dancing livelily off to one side of her and she turned to watch them. Earlier Gandalf had joined in with them, showing a more fun side of his more stern character.

An explosion of a tent seemingly taking flight not far from the cart nearly toppled Minerva over and she turned quickly in her seat to watch the tent soar high into the air, propelled it would appear by a firework. Not an expert on the sciences of pyrotechnics, Minerva still doubted that Gandalf would launch a firework under a tent, not to mention he had been going toward the ale barrels as the tent had risen.

A cry of 'Dragon' rose from the assembled hobbits and chaos emerged from the gaiety of the party guests. Shielding her eyes, she could barely make out the dim outline of what could have been a dragon swooping toward the ground. Her breath caught in her throat, but as she rose to escape, Gandalf gently laid a hand on her shoulder.

"It would appear a Brandybuck and a Took released my dragon..." he muttered, "Only one of light and fire, but mine nonetheless."

Chuckling, Minerva watched the dragon burst into a brilliant shower of white and orange light. No doubt it had been meant to be used as the grand finale of sorts; unfortunately it seemed the tent along with a mischievous someone had nearly ruined the idea. Still it was not without its cheers and general applause as the hobbits dusted themselves off and returned to their drinks, food and dances.

She took Gandalf's arm as he went to find the culprits, both of whom stood dazed and burnt with hair sizzled standing like beacons to be caught.

Gently removing Minerva's hand from his arm, Gandalf approached the two and sternly took each by their ear, earning protesting squeaks of pain.

"Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took..." he murmured, looking from the first to the latter. "I might've known."

Only years of having caught students in far more bizarre situations kept Minerva from chuckling. However her attention was diverted from Gandalf and his disciplining of the young men by Frodo Baggins. He seemed sad or at the very least bored beyond thought, resting against the side of a tent.

He had seemed like such a happy and content young man, and it struck Minerva as odd that he would not be among those partying.

"Are you well, Mr. Baggins?" she asked, amazingly able to reach his side without either breaking her neck or bumping into anyone.

Frodo turned slowly, unfamiliarity creasing his brow. No doubt he was not accustomed to being addressed by his uncle's name.

"Um... yes of course, thank you." he nodded, smiling.

She had been a teacher far too long to not recognize the tell tale signs of covered disappointment. No doubt it was about a girl, or a friend. A missing friend, perhaps.

"I just can't seem to find Sam." At her eyebrows raising, he quickly followed his statement with, "He's my friend, Samwise Gamgee." Ah... so her suspicions had been correct.

"Speech! Bilbo, Speech!" Everyone began to head for seats and the like as they called for a traditional hobbit speech.

"Well I hope you find him... Frodo." He smiled at her.

"Thanks." Taking his tankard of ale he went to find a seat, smiling as he applauded his uncle.


	11. Ringing Truth

Chapter 11

Ringing Truth

Sam looked out the window at the darkness below; wondering if the outside grounds of the castle was as odd as the interior or its inhabitants. He shivered as he imagined what Rolanda might do to him if they never found the Minerva woman. Of course Pomona had explained that she was the Headmistress of the school... but that really did not mean much to the frazzled hobbit.

He wondered if perhaps his old gaffer was looking for him; asking around and scratching his old head, worried but not saying so. It brought strong feelings of guilt and fear to his heart. The world he had been pulled into was not like the Shire. The people were odd, mistrusting and queer. Even the moon, high above, half-hidden by clouds appeared to be different.

"...no, perhaps if we started back with the tub." Filius' voice drifted back to his hearing and he sighed. Despite his oddness, Sam liked Filius and Pomona as well. They were friendly and more than a good deal cordial. And he had always wanted an adventure; just not one with a hawk eyed witch who appeared to detest the earth he walked on.

"The tub?! Oh don't tell me that's the portal." Even Pomona was starting too sound slightly annoyed. But then again they had been bantering about portals, dimensions, magical portkeys, and the like for nearly an hour.

"Why not? So far we've got a missing Headmistress and replacement "hobbit" and only suds as clues." Rolanda rose from the couch, irritated beyond continuation. She ignored the fact that for the past hour she had done nothing but interfere and anger the other two... and punished them by stalking away.

Sam looked up at her, wondering what sort of life she must have lived to be the way she was. He already suspected they were all suffering the after effects of some terrible event. Even in Filius' smiles, there was a hint of sadness.

"Peaceful..." Rolanda muttered, resting her elbow against the glass. "Very nice." Sam nodded. It was at the very least quiet; if you didn't count the mutterings behind them.

"It like this where you're from?" He blinked, amazed that she had actually said something "nice" to him without an acidic edge or catch.

"Always." he sighed, missing the beautiful gardens, the neat little fields and the bubbling streams. He'd even missed Bilbo Baggins' birthday party; one that the entire Shire had been counting the days down to. Rosie Cotton was dancing with another willing hobbit and he wasn't even thought of... probably not even missed.

Tears filled his eyes and he sniffed softly. A hand gently touched his shoulder.

"We'll get you back." Rolanda softly assured him, finding the sight of the shorter lad near to tears somehow touching. Filius had been right... Sam was a person and worthy of tact.

----

Gandalf had gasped silently at the finale act of Bilbo's speech, but only to appear for the others about him, that he had had nothing to do with it. Hobbits after all had labelled him an "official disturber of the peace" along with the fact that he was already blamed for a certain dragon incident several decades earlier. He had merely given Bilbo Baggins a "nudge" out the door... but that was difficult to prove to the gossip-hungry villagers.

"Where did he go?" Minerva asked, although he noted she did not appear in the least bit surprised, more so curious. But then again, he brought back to his memory that she was familiar with magic. Vanishing was probably not something she was at all surprised to see.

They silently rose in the commotion and he hurried them around the party tents and such.

"My dear Bilbo has planned a trip as he has grown tired of life here in the Shire." Gandalf explained as he had them enter Bag End a good deal of time before Bilbo.

"But how did he vanish? Are the hobbits a magical people?" She doubted it, from the gasps and general shock of the party guests.

"No, although they have a way of surprising one." he murmured, chuckling. "Bilbo possessed one magical ring, that he claims he found in a cave during our-" he was cut off sharply as the door opened and Bilbo appeared out of mid air.

Minerva said nothing as Gandalf lifted his finger to his lips. They watched as Bilbo flipped the ring back into his pocket and then went to gather together a few items.

"I suppose you think that was terribly clever." Gandalf stated, his stern voice thundering in the gathered silence.

Bilbo jumped, but quickly overcame his shock.

"Come on, Gandalf, Didn't you see their faces?" Of course he had, and that was the only reason Gandalf was stern at the moment.

"There are many magic rings in the world; and none of them should be used lightly." He admonished.

"It was just a bit of harmless fun..." Minerva took a seat, as the low ceiling made her feel slightly queasy. She noted that if Bilbo did indeed possess a magical ring; that perhaps there were other magics that could send her back to her own world. Gandalf was a strong wizard, and she was quite certain at that moment that he would no doubt be able to find a way to send her back.

Ironically even as she thought of it; the idea soured in her mind. She didn't like the idea in the least... she wanted to stay there. Perhaps there had been another side to Gandalf's saving her from suicide by water. She was being rescued from her life and being given a new chance.


	12. My Precious Mornings

Chapter 12

My Precious Mornings

It was morning, with a perfectly bright sun shining beyond the open drapes and a crystal clear view of a lake and yawn stretching to a foreboding forest. This and more a certain hobbit saw as he awoke from where Pomona and Rolanda had laid him after he had fallen asleep. The couch was very large, especially for his size, and he had slept quite well, all things considered.

Stifling a yawn, Same jumped down from the couch and looked around curiously for the other three. Pomona snored loudly from her seat in the chair by the fireplace and Filius had curled up and appeared quite rested in several blankets by the same fire. How kind...Sam noted, noticing that both of them had given the couch to him and though he was certain that they had rooms and beds of their own to which they had no doubt been inclined to go... they had stayed to watch over him; or no doubt to watch him. Either way it was a kind thought and lifted the little hobbit's heart.

Rolanda was nowhere to be seen. Guessing she had probably headed off to her bed, Sam tiptoed to the window to see the grounds better. He was astounded by the sheer size of the sprawling grounds, amazed by how much gardening skill and time would be needed to keep it... but then he thought that since they taught magic; they probably kept it with magic. Shy of a full load though many considered him, Samwise Gamgee was a good deal more intelligent than most gave him due credit. His curious nature and desire to learn had blessed him with a sharper mind than the average hobbit, though he did enjoy the simplicity of a lack of need to figure out a problem. But such is the nature of hobbits, young or old.

"Sleep well?" He turned sharply, eyes wide to see Rolanda suddenly appear behind him. Apparently she had been in the bathroom.

He nodded, wondering if it would be wise to ask the same of her... something by her red rimmed yellow eyes told him not to. He already knew, or more suspected that Minerva, Headmistress of Hogwarts, bless his memory of herbs and such... was more than a boss to those present. They said her name with respect but with friendly thought, devotion in their plans and perseverance to get her back unmatched with that of a worry for employment. She was their friend...

"Good." Rolanda called out for something called a house elf, and Sam watched with wide eyes and an open mouth when a odd little creature popped into existence with a loud pop. "Would you get us all breakfast..." Rolanda sighed, too tired to care about what its name was. The creature nodded happily and vanished.

"What was that?" Sam felt the words leave his lips before he could stop them and promptly blushed red with embarrassment.

Rolanda chuckled, amused at the blush more so than the question.

"A house elf, they sort of act like servants. Clean, wash, cook... frightfully queer little things, but friendly in the worse way." Sam wasn't so sure he'd call them elves... since the elves from his world were always thought of in a more beautiful sense.

"Oh..."

"Goodness, what time is it?" Filius asked, sitting up. His sparse bits of hair stuck up like a bushed onion and Sam bit his lip to not chuckle.

"Its only 0800... No need to jump up yet." Rolanda assured him. "No classes and we have yet to-" Pomona cut her off as she jumped to her feet.

"I need to water!" she gasped, running from the room and in the process nearly knocking poor Filius over as she tripped but caught herself on the corner of his blankets.

"AHH!" Filius pulled his hand back from Pomona's foot just before it hit and watched with blinking eyes as the herbology mistress and head of hufflepuff vanished out the door.

"Good morning." he murmured, nodding to Sam and Rolanda.

-----

"You will keep an eye on Frodo, won't you?" Bilbo asked, gathering up items for his trip. Gandalf nodded, following after him.

"Two eyes, as often as I can spare them." he replied.

Minerva folded her arms, wondering suddenly why it was so cold... she found it wonderful that Gandalf could be so very kind and yet strong of mind, not allowing a smile to be a weakness, but at the same time, allowing it to be a strength.

"I think you should leave the ring behind, Bilbo. Is that so hard?" Gandalf asked, his eyes looking down at his good friend.

"Well, no..." Bilbo frowned heavily and looked back to the ring. "And yes." he paused but then hurried on as if the words needed to be said without delay..."Now it comes to it, I don't feel like parting with it. It's mine, I found it. It came to me!" He was practically shouting by the end, his eyes flashing.

Taken aback, Gandalf's brows creased.

"There's no need to get angry..."

"Well, if I'm angry, it's your fault." Bilbo spat, his attention again fixing itself on the ring. Bilbo's countenance had changed and Minerva's eyes widened. What magical power in the ring might be powerful enough to create such a change in so sweet and kind a man? It was of a power that she wanted nothing to do with.

"...it's mine... my own... my precious... " Bilbo whispered, running his fingers over the ring, which he held in his palm. Gandalf's eyebrows raised at this, obviously surprised.

"Precious? It's been called that before, but not by you." his tone was hard yet seemingly gentle.

"Oh, what business is it of yours what I do with my own things?" Bilbo growled.

"I think you've had that ring quite long enough." Gandalf advised, despite Bilbo's obvious disdain to be parted from it.

His accusation proved that beyond a shadow of a doubt as he gestured toward Gandalf.

"You want it for yourself!"

"BILBO BAGGINS! Do not take me for some conjuror of cheap tricks! I am not trying to rob you..."

Gandalf's sudden display of power pulled Minerva from her thoughts and she gasped softly, fear suddenly running through her as she felt the magical disturbance wash through the room and the quivering hobbit backed up, petrified. Her heart slowly regained its regular rhythm, but only after Gandalf's soft murmur of assurance to Bilbo.

"...I'm trying to help you."

Bilbo whimpered softly going to his old friend and Minerva covered her mouth, shaken by what she had seen and the unexpectedness of it. Many times over the years she had lost her temper in such a manner, usually at Albus... but others had over the years been subjected to her Scottish temper. Severus Snape had been terribly fond seemingly of pulling her temper from its box, his sneer and flashing dark eyes goading it even further as his sharp retorts and lack of deeper emotion incensing Minerva more than even Albus' childish actions and illogical plans. But... she had learned that those dark eyes held more pain than anyone could ever guess.

She closed her eyes, blocking out the blurred image of Bilbo and Gandalf speaking about something. The night Albus had left Harry Potter on the Dursley's doorstep had been her most violent moment of anger with her friend and secret love. How she regretted the anger now... uncaring that it was justified through her fears and worries. Now he was dead and not once had she apologized for any one of their verbal spats. Not to Albus...not to Severus... not even to Rolanda, who had always found it "jolly" to mutter something inappropriate or droll just loudly enough for only Minerva to hear.

Thud

Her eyes opened and attempted to focus as she saw Bilbo hurry out the door and the small shimmering object was left glittering on the floor. Gandalf went after him; no doubt to bade farewell. Her breath caught in her breath; she could almost hear something, a whisper as if from a fading time.

Gandalf watched Bilbo slowly make his way out the gate and into the beyond, humming. The dependence his friend had exhibited for the ring, greatly disturbed him... especially the faint but growing feelings he had even with looking at the trinket.

Turning he reentered the house, stooping low to avoid bashing his head against the low door frame. He looked down at the ring Bilbo had so unwillingly dropped... the ring Gandalf had become quite certain, Bilbo needed to be parted from. Reaching down, he almost curled his fingers around it, stopping when he felt an unmistakable stab of darkness waft from the innocently inert object.

"Gandalf..." He looked up sharply, concern gripping his heart. Minerva looked pale, even in the dark room, the faint flicker of the fireplace sending shadows to dance across her face. Leaving the ring where it laid... for Frodo, Gandalf went to her side, taking her hand and assisting her to a chair he scooted in front of the fire. Her hand was cold to the touch and he patted it.

Something appeared to be deeply troubling her and Gandalf found that such a fact bothered him deeper than Bilbo's ring. Perhaps it was the same thoughts that had brought about her fainting spell earlier.

"What is it, my dear?" he asked, crouching in front of her, his hand still holding both of hers.

Minerva looked from the red yellow flames to Gandalf's eyes. They were a lighter blue, grey with such overwhelming deepness. The desire rose within her to simply throw herself into his embrace and sob long into the stitching darkness. But time had gifted her with restraint... and in the chair she remained, though she did find great comfort, limited though it was as his warm hands stayed holding her cold ones.

"It is foolish." she murmured, half to herself half to him. He smiled, the wrinkles around his mouth revealing to be laughter lines rather than those of worry.

"There is nothing foolish about truth." he assured her. But slowly their eyes left each others and soon lingered on the ring.

"What is it?" Minerva felt strangely uneasy with it in plain sight and so near. Pulling a chair to seat himself in, Gandalf sighed, releasing her hands with a final pat. His pipe was lifted to his lips and he expertly packed it.

"Most curious..." he murmured, steel eyes leaving the ring for the flames. He lit his pipe with a softly glowing ember and leaned forward, blowing a puff of smoke into the air. "There are many magical rings in the world... but there are only a few that my suspicions fall on." Minerva's eyebrows rose and he smiled, pained.

"Forgive me. I forget you are from another world." He rose from his seat. "Long ago, rings were forged for the races of Middle Earth. Three went to the elves; seven to the dwarf lords; nine to the race of men..." he trailed off, a deep sigh escaping his lips.

"What did the rings do?" Minerva asked, wondering if the ring perhaps was one that he had mentioned, if so, she could not understand why it seemed more... sinister. Perhaps she had been in a darkened world too long...

"Within each was the power to govern each race; unity and strength." He was leaving something out... she could see it. "But another was made..."

Gandalf shut the window, closing it with a soft bang. Mystery shrouded his features and he gripped his pipe tightly as he continued.

"In Mordor, Sauron forged a master ring to control the others. The peoples of Middle Earth fell to his sweeping malice and it would appear all to be lost... until at the last battle between the dark lord and the free peoples, Isildur, son of Elendil, cut the ring from the cursed hand... it was then it vanished."

Another dark lord; but thankfully a defeated one, Minerva sighed softly.

"Which is this one?" Gandalf sighed, obviously not certain as he looked at Minerva.

"Of that I am not certain... further research would reveal this though, I am sure." he took his seat once again, the dark flames shrouding his visage.


	13. Farewell My Heart

This chapter is for SylvaDragon and Chemistress... my faithful reviewers =)

Sam greatly enjoyed the bountiful meal the 'house elf' had brought with a delightful pop back to the room. Both Filius and Rolanda had taken the time to explain a few of the magical intricacies of Hogwarts, but he found himself quickly overwhelmed as they muttered on about ghosts, moving stairways, enchanted suits of armour, talking portraits and absurdly enough something even about a squid in the tranquil lake he had spotted.

Doing his level best to not shudder at the description of the squid, Sam swallowed his last bit of tea and dusted off the bread crumbs from his hands. It had been a breakfast worthy of any hobbit table and he felt full to nearly burst at the seams. Rolanda chuckled suddenly at something Filius had said and Sam perked up, hoping to catch whatever was said next. The small man just waved it away; wiping his lips with a cloth.

"Again, I believe the bath-tub is the key." Filius muttered, rising to his feet and yawning. Pomona had yet to return from whatever watering she had had to do and Sam wondered if perhaps she had forgotten about breakfast. He'd never heard of anyone doing anything of the sort, since hobbits are rather food of victuals; but he had already assumed that the big folk were not nearly as stomach centred.

"How come then we can't get it to do anything?" Rolanda insisted, pouring herself yet another cup of tea with a dash of what smelt like something stronger. Sam wrinkled his nose in concern as she gulped it down rather quickly. It was her fourth cup after all and the dash was growing into a more sizable amount. Filius seemed to note this fact as well as he gently took the bottle from the yellow-eyed woman's hand.

"That I cannot yet understand, my dear. But all in good time." he smiled.

Rolanda sighed.

"Minerva doesn't have "good time"..." she whispered. Sam felt his heart sink. The words sounded so bitterly resolute... so hopeless. Suddenly he hoped deeply that she was wrong. He had never even seen the Minerva woman; but for Rolanda's sake, he wanted her to be well and good.

"I have it!" Pomona shrieked entering the room. All three occupants jumped at her sudden arrival and poor Filius nearly spilt his tea.

"Have what?" he asked, clearly flustered as he set the cup down.

"How to get Minerva back!" Sam smiled widely at the delivered hope.

---

Frodo had nearly flown into the house, startling Minerva terribly as the darker shadows and thoughts from Gandalf's words still lingered about her. A gentle hand against her arm and the young man's instant apology had calmed her quickly though and she had watched with faint amusement as Frodo brought the ring to Gandalf, only to have the older wizard have him slid it into an envelope, stamp it and declare that Bilbo had gone to the elves and left all his possessions to him. The look on Frodo's face was dear and Minerva had to cover to mouth to keep from chuckling.

The darker story and power had faded, won over by the smiles of Gandalf and Frodo's confusion. It was then however that the wizard rose and went quickly forth to gather his hat and staff. Alarmed, both Frodo and Minerva hurried after him.

"Where are you going?" Minerva asked, frightened that he would leave her.

"I have questions that need answering..." he murmured, setting his hat upon his head.

Frodo appeared to have similar thoughts, for he followed her question with yet another.

"But I don't understand, you've only just arrived?"

Sighing Gandalf turned to face their worried faces.

"Neither do I..." his face held lines from melded worry and despair and it touched Minerva deeply; reminding her instantly of Albus before his final journey.

She tried frantically to calm herself, knowing that it was not the same and that Gandalf was in no danger. There was no dark lord that desired to kill him; no dark mark high within the dark clouds... no promises to keep, no curses to kill. But her thoughts hardly calmed her beating heart, until Gandalf silently took her hand in his.

He had given Frodo instruction to put the ring away somewhere safe and now she dreaded the farewell she knew he would give her. Albus had not given her one; at least not in words, although his eyes had written a tale far more poignant than any oratory. She did not know if she could have borne it if he had said anything; did not know if she could currently bear Gandalf's words.

"I shall return soon." he murmured, patting her hand. That simply he left her, the round green door clicked shut behind his retreating form and she was left alone again.

"He will be back..." Frodo whispered, trying to be comforting.

Having been an educator for quite a spell, Minerve donned her children's face and nodded, knowing that he was probably as confused as she felt.

Following the hobbit into the kitchen, she seated herself at the low table and sighed softly as he prepared tea for them. She tried her best to appear pleasant as she took the offered cup. The steam wafted into her already blurry eyes and she closed them, suddenly more tired than she could ever remember being.

"Would you mind terribly if I went to bed, Frodo?" Minerva asked, not wanting to leave the boy alone if he did not wish it.

He shook his head, smiling broadly.

"Not at all. Sleep well." she nodded, pleased that he was so well-mannered.

She made her way with little difficultly, by feeling along the wall, to the room Bilbo and Gandalf had put her in after her fainting spell and promptly laid on the bed, without removing either her apparel or taking down her hair. Tears ran down her pale cheeks and soon she was sobbing against the pillow. Nightmares plagued her that night and there seemed to be no sun to rise that morning.


	14. Wizardly Ways

To say that Pomona had their full attention would have been an understatement as Rolanda all but dragged her to a seat and Filius did not even admonish her for doing so, as he was to intent in asking questions, such as "what?", "how?" and "why haven't you told us yet?"

After getting Rolanda to give her some space, Pomona launched into her story.

"I was watering my plants, the poor dears had not a drop of moisture within their parched roots. It was during then that I noticed the water, running down from the stems and along the ground. Sort of like a miniature river of sorts. Surely that's why we can't get Minerva back from the bathtub. The portal's current has moved on, leaving the bathtub no longer the accessible entrance."

Filius looked close to kissing Pomona as he ran from the room, his robes billowing out about him in near humorous fashion. Following after him, the other three gaped as he began tapping the wall just outside Minerva's chambers. Rolling her eyes, Rolanda folded her arms.

"Pomona, I thought you said you knew 'how to get Minerva back'..." she muttered, obviously unhappy.

"But that was the way." The smaller woman insisted, nicely patting Sam's arm as he looked on hopefully.

"Not in my opinion..." Rolanda hissed, as Filius sighed and came over to them.

"I'm afraid the castle would disagree with your portal idea, Pomona." he murmured, not unkindly, despite the words.

No one looked as disappointed as Pomona; as she had been so certain on her correctness.

As Deputy Headmaster, Filius could 'link' with Hogwarts castle and in doing so had quickly found that there were no opening and closing portals drifting though as Pomona had suggested.

A cup of tea later, Pomona sniffed softly into a handkerchief Filius had given her and wiped her filling eyes.

"Oh I was so sure." she sighed.

"Maybe its time we faced facts." Rolanda intoned, staring at the wall. .

Sam wrinkled his brow and exchanged glances with Filius.

"Face facts?" Filius asked, curiosity matched with uncertainty.

"Yeah... she's lost and we'll never find her."

Silence enveloped the seated foursome. All looked torn and confused; lost themselves in the twisted dark ways of the world around them. Pomona took another sip from her cup and refilled the other three's but only Sam thanked her and lifted to drink.

Sighing, Filius rose to his feet and chuckled.

"This will not do." he murmured. "Come, Minerva would hate this gathering."

Rolanda huffed.

"Well, she's not here, now is she."

Pomona opened her mouth to respond, but Filius shook his head.

"But we will get her back, Rolanda Hooch. And the sooner the better."

Sam licked his lips, nodding along with Filius. He had already decided he greatly admired the man.

"Come with me." the man murmured, gesturing for the two women and Sam to follow him.

They left the room, Pomona stopping briefly to assure a worried Filch that they were doing everything in their power to find Minerva, and soon found themselves outside the Headmistress' office. A stone gargoyle sat guarding it and Sam gulped nervously, wondering what was about to happen.

"No need to worry, dear. He's made of stone." Pomona assured him.

"Time is the fire in which we burn..." Filius muttered, obviously uncomfortable with Minerva's password.

The stone beast leapt aside, yanking a shriek from poor Sam. Rolanda rolled her eyes, grabbing his arm and pulling him in through the door and consequentially up the moving stairway.

With everything happening so quickly, Sam could only blink and stare as they stood within the large dark office.

Filius muttered something and the office flared to life as light lit it. The large tidy desk looked less sinister well-lit and Sam breathed a sigh of relief.

"My dear Filius, how wonderful of you to visit me." Albus' portrait chuckled happily. Several other portraits of past Headmasters and mistresses agreed, while less friendly ones, such as Snape merely sniffed.

"Albus, we need your help. Minerva's gone missing I'm afraid." Pomona stated, approaching the painting.

Sam wasn't sure which was more odd, the fact that the painting was talking, the fact they were talking back to it; or the fact that the man reminded him instantly of yet another wizard... One from his own world, with a delightful collection of stories, fireworks and no doubt magic equal to the ones around Sam now.

"Do you know Gandalf?" he squeaked, halfly unsure even why he'd asked.

Albus' painting stared at him, before a kind smile lit the man's blue eyes.

"No, my dear boy, the name is unfamiliar." He replied.

"Who's Gandalf?" Rolanda asked, hand on her wand.

"He's a wizard from my world." Sam hastily explained. "A good one."

"And just why didn't you mention this before?!" Rolanda snapped, glaring down at Sam's now quivering form.

"It didn't come to me... begging your pardon." he whispered.

"Rolanda, give the boy some space." Pomona admonished, folding her arms. "Honestly, you are so terribly impatient and rude."

The woman just sniffed, throwing herself into the nearest chair.

Albus stroked his beard.

"Am I safe to assume that Minerva is not only just missing, but lost from this world?" Sam was surprised at how intelligent the painting was and therefore just nodded rather dumbly.

"Yes, Albus, she and Mr. Samwise Gamgee here apparently exchanged places from our world and his." Filius explained.

Albus nodded.

"Well then, you have nothing to worry about. Simply call her back and exchange them back again."

Rolanda glared at Albus as if wishing the paint would peel and melt.

"Oh brilliant idea..." she scoffed.

"How would we do that?" FIlius asked, ignoring Rolanda.

"Find the portal and use those Ravenclaw lungs of yours... how else?" Severus Snape sneered.

"And how do we find the portal?" Pomona added, not liking Snape's tone, but more intent on getting Minerva back than on chastising rude dead headmasters.

"I'm afraid that we cannot help you with, my dear." Albus murmured, sadly. "But it would appear that there is a wizard on Samwise's side of these worlds as well and if fate and chance work with us; perhaps he can help Minerva."

---

Minerva blinked wearily at the dark wall, across from the bed where she lay. She had not slept at all the night before, having tossed and turned, her thoughts and light slumber filled with potential threats and dangers. There was no manner of death that Albus had not met with within her near feverish panic and to her horror, Gandalf had only survived her imagination to succumb to the same fate as the first beloved wizard.

Curled into a ball, she hugged the pillow tightly against her chest. Frodo had not bothered her, and she had no way of knowing what time it was, since the drapes were tightly closed over the earthen window and there was no clock nearby. Strands of dark hair drifted over her red-rimmed eyes, ignored by the tired witch.

She wondered if Gandalf would think her foolish for acting this way... but soon pushed the thought away. Gandalf's thoughts were not hers to think of. Neither had Albus' been, although she had rarely allowed that to stand in her way of soft dreams and pleasant day ponderings.

Rising into a seated position, Minerva smoothed out her wrinkled robes. She wondered briefly, if perhaps a bit of wandless magic could clean it; but couldn't find the inner strength to finish either the thought or the action. Despite her fuzzy vision, she was able to feel her way to the door with minimal trouble and the light flooding the hallway, although blinding at first, assisted her journey to the kitchen, where Frodo sat, mulling over a cup of tea.

She noted the other cup awaiting her and smiled at his thoughtfulness.

"Good morning..." she murmured, receiving a far more cheerful smile in return than the one she had given.

"Good morning." Neither made mention to the fact that it had neither been a good night nor a good morning; the woven lie lifted them both enough to continue on with a breakfast.

Poking her egg with the toast Frodo had generously made for her, Minerva yawned into her hand. Across from her, the hobbit dropped his eyes from where he'd been staring at her, no doubt concerned about her reddened eyes, pale face and tangled hair.

--

It had taken far less time than Gandalf had anticipated to delve into the writings Isildur had left behind in his passing. Dread seized his heart as he hurried back though the halls of the castle, his long strides carrying him quickly back toward his horse. There was no time to waste. He now knew how to identify the lost ring of power and with haste it needed to be proven that the ring Bilbo had so begrudgingly left behind was not it... although more than a sliver of doubt pervaded his mind.

After all, the manner in which Bilbo had acted suggested the ring twisted and wielded power against the hobbit. A truly terrible power that longed for higher, stronger, darker actions.

The wide streets of the city were even further cleared, the citizens nodding respectfully and more or less happily to the hastening wizard. Mithrandir was not a man one trifled with greetings and troubles; for he was a wizard after all. And even the youngest child knew that wizards were best left to their own devices.

However, as Gandalf passed in a whirl of grey, he paused, momentarily to see the sign of one trinket shop. His bush-like eyebrows lifted and he entered within, noticing the many oddities the shopkeeper had in bundles, bags and shelves for customers to see. In particular, the rounded glass objects caught the wizards attention especially as he thought back to Minerva and her sight or lack thereof.

He'd seen and before heard that with the proper thickness of the glass, one could correct oddities in the eye. Narya, his comforter, shone upon his finger as he gently lifted a nearby pair of spectacles. It would not do to purchase anything for Minerva without her presence and he berated himself for not bringing her with him. The memory of her worried face plagued him suddenly and his heart ached knowing that he had become far more fond of the woman than perhaps he should have.

Leaving the shop, he soon mounted his horse and galloped forth from within the city. Despite his earlier thoughts he smiled softly as he remembered her gentle laughter at Biblo's party...

---

Minerva and Frodo had exchanged countable words after breakfast and then the later had excused himself to go out. No doubt to look for his lost friend, the Sam that he had not seen the night before, she mused, slowly going along the wall in an effort to not stumble.

Once seated in a cozy chair by the roaring fire, she selected one of the many thick books Biblo had within his study walls and holding the book out far enough, was able to read a good chapter before falling asleep.

By the time Frodo returned, disheartened and hungry, dinner time had come and passed and upon seeing Minerva, so soundly asleep in the chair, he could not wake her, for fear of disturbing more so than assisting. Thus he ate a simple meal alone and then promptly found his own book to read and occasionally glancing up to check on the older woman, he read happily within a chair he'd pulled up across from her.

It was odd... he knew so little about her. How she had come to know Gandalf was not known to him; much less why Gandalf had brought her with him. But any friend of Gandalf's was a friend of his. And Minerva was a kind enough woman to make the effort of friendship far more easy than with most.

She awoke just as Frodo was becoming to sleepy to keep his eyes open any longer.

"What?" she whispered groggily, glancing around at the smeared room and hobbit.

"Could I get you something to eat?" Frodo asked, rubbing his eyes.

She shook her head, not hungry.

Frodo nodded, yawning again as he blinked away sleep.

"You should go to bed, Frodo." Minerva murmured.

He nodded.

Wondering briefly if she planned to wait for Gandalf's return, Frodo saw no point in arguing and headed off for his room. Alone now and no longer exhausted, Minerva slowly made her way to the door and leaving it open, seated herself on the steps.

The soft breeze lifted and rippled through her hair and she sighed, enjoying the relaxation of the country air.


	15. What Must I Do?

_This chapter has been incredibly long in its coming... for that I apologize. There are things within life that are beyond our control (such as FF not working for my log in) and poor health. Anyway, I am grateful beyond words for each of my lovely readers and their thoughtful reviews._

_I do plan to continue this story with less time in between updates. Enjoy ^_^_

Gandalf normally would have slipped into the house without so much as a mention of noise. But as his sharp eyes focused on Minerva, asleep against the doorpost, he didn't have the heart to simply navigate around her. It was true that the news he had for Frodo was of the utmost need of delivery... especially for the uncovering if in fact that simple band of gold was what he believed it to be. Still, he took the time, rarely before given, to stoop down and gather the woman into his arms. He'd carried her before... more than once even, but the warmth of her soft form tucked so gently into his, no... he would not allow that train of thought.

Carefully, he settled her into the bed that she should have been in the first place.

He had lived a long time, one during which there was nothing he had not in some way felt or experienced all it had to offer. Love... it was not foreign to him. He had loved many in many forms and ways.

His weathered hand paused, just as he noticed he had been centimeters from touching her softly greying hair. There was no time, nor was it proper, in any term of the definition for him to display such affection. Yet he allowed his fingers to trace the curve of her cheek, feather-lightly brushing pale skin.

He glanced to the door, debating how Frodo would respond to so abrupt a wakening that he had planned for him. Minerva stirred on the bed, slender fingers curling around his wrist.

At first he thought she was awake, until he noticed her eyes were still shut and her breathing was unchanged.

"Albus..." she whispered. His heart froze at that word... that obvious name. It was a sudden stark reminder that she was from another world, that she belonged to another time, perhaps another man. No, just a man... not another. Another implied that he had a hold on her of some sort. And he didn't... he just wished he did.

With more effort than he would have liked, he removed her hand from his arm and slipped from the room.

* * *

"Uh, what if he doesn't want to?" Rolanda interjected. "Not all wizards are warm hearted and cuddly."

"Thank heaven for small mercies..." Severus smirked.

"Now, now." chuckled Pomona, worried that Rolanda might start abusing the Slytherin's portrait if given the chance. "Sam said that he's a good wizard, this Gandalf. If he's good, he'd help her."

"Excellent thinking." Filius agreed, beaming.

Rolanda went over to the Headmistress' desk... Minerva's desk, she swallowed, and sat in the chair. It was high-backed and rigid; ironically like her friend in some ways. Wheeling it to the side, she propped her feet up, crossing them at the ankles.

It was testament to the changed times and the business of their minds that no one in the room, even Severus demand she lower her booted feet. That thought made her sniff sadly. Minerva would have hexed her by now.

"It is indeed excellent, Pomona." The venerable although deceased portrait concurred. "However, I would not worry in the least about if he would help her or not. Or even if he would be able."

Sam decided to grip his courage by the ears.

"Why is that, sir?"

"Everything happens for a reason, young Samwise. Regardless of how awful it may seem to all of you, Minerva did not vanish to another world due to chaotic happenstance. There is a reason and meaning behind it."

"Thanks for the fortune cookie, Dumbledore." Rolanda growled, playing with a inked quill. "I'd prefer to get her back, instead of assigning some bizarre 'reasoning' to her vanishing."

"Oh Rolanda, do hush up."" Pomona groaned.

And although Sam was still quite frightened of the yellow-eyed witch, he couldn't help but feel sorry for her, and in a way agree with her. It was like breaking a bone, only to be told as a comfort that it would make you less likely to climb such high trees again. Well maybe not quite as depressing, but Sam decided that Rolanda Hooch was a more angsty person than he was.

"Fine, I'm sorry." Rolanda didn't sound in the least apologetic, but those who knew her were able to ignore that fact.

"We understand you're upset." Pomona soothed. If it was possible, that line of comfort only seemed to aggravate the other witch further.

Suddenly she sat up.

"Pickled toadstools! I've got it. I mean it's bloody brilliant."

Filius, who had continued a hushed conversation with Albus, gave Rolanda a not-again-look. They had all recently recovered from Pomona having the 'perfect' idea.

"We just do it again!"

"Do what again?" Severus and Pomona asked in stereo, much to their equal unease.

"Switch. I mean it's bloody brilliant." She had crawled almost onto the desk by then, trying desperately to find a scrap piece of paper.

"Do stop sounding like Weasley." a certain former potions master snapped. To her credit, Rolanda ignore him, 'yahooing' with ecstatic joy as she pulled a unused scroll from under Minerva's old class schedules.

"See." she busily started scribbling some deformed diagram out as everyone, with legs, shuffled forward to watch. The portraits just did their best to crane necks over in-the-way shoulders and heads. "There!" Rolanda excitedly gushed.

Sam stared at the lopsided 'tunnel' Rolanda had uh drawn. He hoped she didn't think it was suppose to actually look like anything, cause it really didn't.

Filius apparently was thinking along those same lines as he turned his head to one side and then backed up a bit before moving forward again.

"Its lovely, Rolanda." Pomona ventured.

Rolanda's smile packed its bags and vanished.

"It's not a piece of art, you loon." When they all just stared at her and then back to the scroll, she rolled her eyes. "Fine. See this... it's a loop or a tunnel. The one that we need to get Minerva to so she'll came back to this world. Well, I'm assuming that there's one somewhere here too... not that that would help us, since we don't want to go there. But if we did. We could find Minerva and get the wizard to help and then tada!"

Severus was the first to speak.

"Congratulations, you're now certifiable in two worlds." he sneered.

Filius rubbed his jaw.

"I suppose that might work... I just don't know how we'd find the portal."

"Honestly, how have you people remained so dense?" Snape rubbed his temples. "Mr Gamgee, how do you remember feeling before you ended up here?"

"What?"

Severus intensified his patented 'drop-dead-first-through-seventh-year' glare.

"How do you remember feeling? What were you thinking?"

"Nice reeds..."

Even Filius grimaced. "Uh no, maybe, yeah. It was adventure. I was thinking about a story."

"In other words, ignoring your first poor attempt at memory. You were thinking of living your world. Subconsciously at least."

"Wait!" Rolanda all but shouted. "That would mean that Minerva was thinking something similar."

Albus sighed sadly.

"Probably of a different form though."

There was an unsettled silence as that sunk into those gathered.

"That's not-" But it was and they all, not including Sam, knew it.

"So think suicidal thoughts and hope the world will have you, Rolanda."

No one moved to admonish the flying instructor when a quill his Severus' crooked nose, leaving a ink trail down his mouth and chin.

* * *

"Is it secret? Is it safe?" These words were given as way of greeting to one very groggy Frodo as he stumbled from bed.

"What, Gandalf?" he muttered, rubbing at his eyes.

"The ring."

For some unknown reason, Frodo suddenly felt very awake. He hurried to the chest he'd hidden the enveloped ring within and returned to Gandalf, handing it over. He could not suppress a cry when the old wizard tossed it forth into the fireplace.

"What are you doing?" He cried, nearly lurching forward. Concern and worry surged through him, partially that Gandalf had finally lost it and for some small part that was worried for the ring, as it was a gift from his uncle.

Gandalf bent for the tongs and scooped the ring from the shrivelled ash that remained of the paper envelope.

"Hold out your hand Frodo, it's quite cool."

He did as he was told, gasping softly as it fell almost heavily into his palm. The light of the fire caught its golden sides, nearly making it glow. It was beautiful and yet, somehow it was also ugly, nearly too bright.

" What can you see? Can you see anything?"

"Nothing. There's nothing." Frodo muttered, turning the ring around.

Gandalf sighed, appearing relieved.

"Wait... There are markings."

* * *

"This had better work..." Pomona sighed. Along with her, Filius, Rolanda and Sam were standing in a clearing in the Forbidden Forest.

"It's hardly as if you've got a better idea." Rolanda returned, sharper than was needed.

Each had muggle compass in hand. Albus had given them two pieces of advice, of which were the compasses and the location. None of them had really questioned the portrait; as it is a common (magical) piece of knowledge that one doesn't question magical paintings unless it is needed. Besides, none of them had had a better place to start.

"Now, let's fan out. Watch out for trolls, Sam." Rolanda teased.

Poor Samwise grew very pale. He was unfortunate enough to know exactly what a troll was.

"Don't scare the poor boy." Filius admonished, compass in one tiny hand and wand in the other.

They branched out, watching the muggle devices change ever so slightly from West to Southwest and then a bit more Easterly. It was quite frustrating. Finally Rolanda shrieked.

"Got it! I got it!"

"Oh lovely!" Pomona clapped, going over to her.

"Marvelous." Filius beamed, motioning Sam over. The four of them then just stared at the tree Rolanda was frantically pointing to.

"Uh..."

"Don't you dare uh me, Pomona Sprout." Rolanda censured. "Not the tree, that!"

They leant to the right.

"Ahh..."

"Ah, indeed." Rolanda nodded in approval.

They shuffled toward the murky pond, each gazing into tepid water.

"Yeah, the compass it spinning." Pomona supplied. Rolanda dipped a finger into the water.

"Hmm... now what?" Filius wondered aloud.

"Guess we dive in..."

Sam didn't like that idea.

"Wouldn't it be better to wade in?"

Filius nodded.

"Capital idea. Start wading, Rolanda."

Instead of complaining, she started taking off her shoes.

"What, what are you doing?" Pomona demanded.

"Get new glasses... What's it look like?"

"But the water, it, it's filthy. You'll catch something!" Pomona looked to Filius.

"I agree with Pomona, Hooch. Best keep your shoes on."

Rolanda hissed under her breath.

"Yes, Mummy..."

Sam did his best to not laugh as she rose, still shoe clad.

"Well, let's go, Sammy boy."

Go they did, with Pomona grimacing as slimy water slurped as they waded in.

"Oh! Don't forget these." The herbology professor gasped, tossing a bundle to Rolanda.

"Eh? What's this?"

Pomona said something, but it was too quiet to hear.

"Huh?" Rolanda shouted, cupping her ear.

To her side, Sam gasped and both looked down to see the water swirl about their legs. Sam, who was shorter, vanished under the goo and Rolanda followed in short succession.

"Oh dear..." Pomona worried. Filius reached up to take her hand and patted it.

"They'll be fine." But he found himself staring at the place they'd vanished as well.

* * *

Minerva awoke with a start. She'd felt something cold and frigid running down her neck and back. Reaching gingerly to her skin, she shuddered as she realized it was merely perspiration. Her dream had actually been pleasant enough. But now, oddly enough upon waking she felt a sinking dread fill her entire being.

A dark shape loomed before her from the shadows, the moonlight glowing through it as it approached. She gasped, thinking back to the horror that had filled her when the dementors had been in Hogwarts.

A bony hand reached out for her.

Shrill, her scream cut through the air even before she realized she'd opened her mouth.

* * *

"...the language is that of Mordor, which I will not utter here." Gandalf murmured, his heart heavy. Frodo's mouth opened to ask something, but both were silenced as a scream whispered into the room.

Both hurried toward Minerva's room, Gandalf throwing his staff forth as he went. The door burst open under his thrust out hands. Frodo peered around the wizard as they both gazed into the lit room. Neither saw anything.

"Minerva..." Gandalf moved to the trembling woman's side, unsure of how to comfort her, until she threw her arms around his neck, burying her tearstained face against his chest.

Frodo, frightened enough that something horrible had been discovered within the ring his uncle had left him, stood motionless in the doorway. Tensions were high enough without anything added to it and he suddenly wanted nothing more than to climb into a hole somewhere and cry his eyes out.

"There was something..." Minerva croaked, her voice sounded tired and frightened as she slightly pulled back from Gandalf.

"It was only a dream, my dear." he soothed, gently stroking her hair as one might a child. What concerned him was that it may not have been a mere dream. As he had just learnt that the ring of power was here within the house, there was a chance that the oddest of things could be given life. Sauron sought the ring with all his considerable will.

The three silent ones moved from the bedroom to the kitchen, again settling around the table, with tea for Frodo and Minerva and nothing for Gandalf. He was far too concerned to eat or drink.

In sombre tones he continued his explanation of the ring for Frodo.

"In the common tongue it says, "One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them. One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them."

Minerva shivered, wrapping the blanket she'd brought with her from the bedroom more securely around her shoulders. It sounded as dreary as when Gandalf had spoken to her of Sauron. "This is the One Ring. Forged by the Dark Lord Sauron in the fires of Mount Doom. Taken by Isildur from the hand of Sauron himself."

Large eyes focused on the ring in front of him. Despite his age, Frodo looked like a mere first year as worry flickered over his face.

"Bilbo found it. In Gollum's cave..." As if suddenly realizing a horrible thing, the young hobbit gasped. "But Gandalf, Sauron, he was destroyed."

A hard whisper, of the Black Speech, rose from the golden band. Three pairs of eyes watched it earnestly, as though at any given moment it would leap from the table and slay them all.

"No, Frodo. The spirit of Sauron endured. His life force is bound to the Ring, and the Ring survived. Sauron has returned. His Orcs have multiplied. His fortress at Barad-Dûr is rebuilt in the land of Mordor. Sauron needs only this Ring to cover all the lands of a second darkness. He is seeking it, seeking it - all his thought is bent on it. The Ring yearns above all else to return to the hand of its master. They are one, the Ring and the Dark Lord. Frodo, he must never find it."

Minerva jumped when Frodo snatched up the ring.

"Alright, we put it away." He headed down the hallway, both of the older adults following after him.

"We keep it hidden. We never speak of it again. No one knows it's here, do they?"

Minerva watched as Gandalf's face fell. Hoping to comfort him, she carefully touched his arm. He took her hand, patting it as he settled it into the crook of his elbow.

"Do they Gandalf?" Frodo asked, hope building in his youthful features.

"There is one other who knew that Bilbo had the Ring. I looked everywhere for the creature Gollum. But the enemy found him first..."

Both those in his 'audience' lost that sliver of hope.

"I don't know how long they tortured him. But amidst the endless screams and inane babble, they discerned two words . . ."

Frodo paled further.

"Shire. Baggins. But that would lead them here!" He rose quickly holding the ring out for Gandalf. "Take it Gandalf! Take it!"

Minerva gripped Gandalf's arm tighter as her chest tightened. As awful a thought as it was; she wanted him to take it... to be done with it... destroy it. She hated the darkness that echoed from it. But she knew he wouldn't. She knew he couldn't destroy it; not due to lack of strength but simply because like Albus and Harry, it was one's destiny to be the mentor and the other the destroyer. Poor Frodo, she thought...

"No, Frodo." Gandalf shook his head.

Frodo's voice trembled with desperation.

"You must take it!"

"You cannot offer me this Ring!"

"I'm giving it to you!" Frodo urged, breathing hard.

"Don't tempt me Frodo!"Gandalf shouted, not nearly as loud as he had with Bilbo, but with enough feeling that Frodo was silent. "I dare not take it. Not even to keep it safe. Understand Frodo, I would use this Ring from a desire to do good. But through me, it would wield a power too great and terrible to imagine."

"Minerva?" Frodo asked softly.

She looked up from the floor, gasping lightly as her eyes rested on the ring he held out.

Grey eyes watched her, fear surfacing.

Would she take it, for it being such a temptation.

"No, Frodo..." she whispered. "I've fought evil for too long... too long to give in now."

Gandalf smiled, unknowingly patting her hand.

"But it cannot stay in the Shire!" Frodo groaned, staring at the ring, wondering why he held it when no one else would.

"No!" Gandalf agreed. "No, it can't."

Minerva hated what she knew would come next. Poor Frodo... a pawn for a greater cause.

"What must I do?"


	16. Adhesive Plasters

Rolanda swam ashore, crawling from the clear river. It was amazingly clean compared to the bog of sorts they'd gone into in the Forbidden Forest. Looking back over her soggy shoulder, she rolled her eyes at the floundering Sam. Could the kid do anything? she inwardly growled, stalking back into the water for him. A strong hand latched onto his shirt back and she pulled him ashore.

Sam laid there like a drowned rat, gasping for air and spitting up water. His sandy blonde hair was plastered to one side of his head and more than a small amount of water had begun to form a circle around him.

She shook out her own short hair, grateful that a quick shake was enough to keep it from dripping down her back. Not that it mattered that much... she was already soaking.

"You okay?"

Sam nodded. "Good."

It was then that she fished out her wand and dried them both with a quick wave.

The hobbit leapt to his hairy feet, touching his clothes and hair in wonderment. Rolanda scoffed at him, secretly amused and stalked off.

"You coming, blondie?"

Mutely, Sam wondered why Pomona or Filius hadn't come along instead of this hawk eyed slave driver.

Rolanda opened the bundle Pomona had tossed her as they walked. Within it were Minera's glasses, her spare ones at least, her wand, three apples and a jug of pumpkin juice. Oh and some plasters. The latter made the flying instructor wonder if Pomona had been spending her holiday time with Poppy. Honestly, pumpkin juice and plasters?

"What are those?"

She glanced down at Sam, debating her answer.

"Adhesive plasters." Oh what fun to see his plump little face wrinkle with confusion.

"Oh..." like he understood her, Rolanda mused evilly. They walked in silence after that.

"So, you know where we are?"

Sam pointed behind him.

"That's the Brandywine." He beamed, obviously happy to know something the witch didn't. Rolanda snorted.

"And where's the closest uh village?"

Sam fumbled as he tried to place exactly where they were.

"I-I don't know..." he admitted. "I've never been this far."

Rolanda went to make come nasty remark but stopped when she saw his drooping head. Poor kid, just trying to help and she was being a nasty booby.

"It's okay." she awkwardly assured him. "We'll cast a locating spell and find Minerva before you can say, whatever it is you hobbit's say."

That brought a smile to Sam's face and her guilt lessened considerably.

They walked in silence for a bit, using Rolanda's wand as a light, since it was dark. Sam wanted to ask if he could hold onto her somehow, since she kept veering off, but didn't dare poise such a question. Her legs were longer and at the rate she walked if he didn't sprint beside her, he would have been left far behind indeed.

"Would you slow up a bit?"

He could hear the woman's growl as a reply and did have to see her to know she was rolling her eyes.

"Fine. But if we miss her because we're out here turtle crawling, I'm not responsible for what I do to you..."

Sam swallowed thickly, willing his eyes not to fill with tears. He was cold, even with his jacket, feeling the wind cut against him as they went. He was hungry; not having eaten anything since before they'd come and most importantly, he was scared. It was dark and all around them, nasty things seemed to lurk. Shire or not, he felt like he was in a hostile foreign land. "Oh bugger it..."

He bumped into her as she came to a sudden halt.

"Have some juice and an apple, squirt."

At first he thought she was teasing him, until he felt the familiar roundness of the fruit being pressed into his shivering hands. "Stand still and I'll cast a warming charm on ya."

That didn't sound in the least bit pleasant, but he quickly changed his mind as the new warm stole into his very bones. How amazing it was to have this magical power, he thought, wondering if Gandalf used magic as flippantly as these others did when he was alone. After all, Sam knew the elderly wizard was very careful with his magic around others.

The last juicy bit of his apple was still in the chewing process when Rolanda stopped them again.

"This is taking forever and we don't have time for it!" she shouted, kicking a nearby stone. Sam winced, guessing it must have hurt, regardless of her anger. He was proven right by her small exclamation of 'ouch' and she slumping to the ground to check on her injured foot. "Damn rock..." she mumbled, eyes nearly glowing in her wand-light. "Damn shoes... damn Minerva..." He shuffled over to her, peeking at her bleeding toe. "Damn you!" she roared, making him jump back, face turning crimson.

As Sam took several more steps away from the frustrated witch, he stepped on the bundle she'd thrown when kicking the rock. He hesitated, hoping she wouldn't mind or notice as he picked it up.

He found the plasters easily enough, as they were the only thing that could be what they were called. Using the little pruning knife in his back pocket, he cut off a sizable piece and carefully approached his companion.

"Uh..."

She glared at him, mouth falling open when he handed her the bandage. "That'll help?" he asked softly.

Rolanda felt a lump converge on her throat. He really was a nice young man, she thought, taking the plaster.

"Thanks."

He shrugged and she applied it to her toe.

"Well... onward?"

She rose and waved her wand about, looking both silly and powerful in Sam's wide eyes. In fact he was so keen on her movements, that he didn't notice she was speaking to him until after he poked his arm.

"Kid? There, we've got a locating spell in place now. It'll take up straight to Minerva. We'll just apparate there now. No worry about this walking and such. Too cold and muggle."

Sam just nodded, taking her hand when she offered it.

* * *

Minerva took a seat in the nearest chair, watching as Frodo hurriedly packed. It didn't seem possible that everything could turn over so quickly. Only a few hours before, they had sat reading and trying to get the other to eat. Now, he had a ring of power that a dark lord would use his every breath to attempt to secure. Somehow it made Minerva want to cry. It was as if she was reliving hearing about the prophecy. She couldn't even look at the young hobbit without thinking of little Harry. Well, not so little anymore. But try as she might, she still pictured him as the gapping first year with Weasley in tow.

"Get out of the Shire. Make for the village Bree." Gandalf was saying, tossing the occasional needed item to Frodo, who was finishing up with his packing already.

"Bree. What about you? Minerva?" He looked concerned from one to the other.

"We'll be waiting for you, at the Inn of the Prancing Pony."

It was sounding surreal to Minerva; yet she still didn't dare think of it as anything other than an unescapable reality.

"And the Ring will be safe there?"

Gandalf looked haggard, worn and tired.

"I don't know Frodo. I don't have any answers. I must see the head of my order. He is both wise and powerful. Trust me Frodo, he'll know what to do. You'll have to leave the name of Baggins behind you, for that name is not safe outside the Shire."

He helped Frodo with his cloak.

"Travel only by day. And stay off the road."

Frodo smiled, slipping the ring into his waistcoat pocket.

"I can cut across country easily enough."

Gandalf nodded, settling his large hands on Frodo's narrow shoulders.

"My dear Frodo. Hobbits really are amazing creatures! You can learn all that there is to know about their ways in a month, and yet after a hundred years, they can still surprise you."

Something rusted and cracked outside of the window; a light glowing faintly that had not glowed there before.

"Get down!" Gandalf hissed, motioning to Minerva to do the same as Frodo hit the floor. The old wizard crossed to the window, peering out carefully. His staff, always readily at hand shot out cracking something or someone on the head.

"Bloody hell!" a woman shrieked as Gandalf dragged first her and then another wiggling form in through the window.

Words escaped him as he stared at the woman, odd enough in appearance and dress and then Sam.

"Minerva!" Rolanda shot to her feet, years of Quidditch falls having made her quick to recover from blows to the head. Or as Severus or Poppy might had teased, not much up there to bother anyway. She embraced the other woman, not caring that another hobbit was staring at her with a 'yikes-you-look-like-a-hippogriff' expression on his face, or that the tall wizard was somberly helping Sam to his feet.

Minerva was too surprised by her friend's sudden and unexpected appearance to react at first. She merely stood there stiffly, until slowly Rolanda backed up to examine her.

"You okay? I mean, everything working good?"

Numbly she nodded.

"How?"

Rolanda shrugged.

"Ack, that? Piece of cake. Oh here..."

Minerva felt her spectacles being pushed into her hands, the very prospect of being able to see clearly again bringing a smile to her face.

"Oh thank you." she murmured, slipping them on. Oddly, Gandalf's confusion was the first thing she was able to focus on. "Rolanda." she pointed out. "This is Gandalf the Grey and Frodo Baggins. She is one of the other teachers of Hogwarts."

This seemed to clear most of Gandalf's wonders, although his fingers did not loosen from the tight knot he had made of them. This new arrival spelt the end of something too far away to even begin.

"Charmed." Rolanda nodded to each. "I'm Rolanda Hooch and that bugger there is Sammy Blondgee."

Frodo smiled at that, although Sam's frown deepened.

"To say that this is an interesting turn of events would hardly due it justice." Gandalf murmured, thoughtfully stroking his thick beard. "Yet I had not desired to send Frodo alone."

"Ah, send him where exactly?" Rolanda asked.

Gandalf gave her a knowing smile.

"You may soon enough find out."

And find out Rolanda did. For although she urged Minerva to help find the bog and be done with the whole affair, the headmistress would not be talked into abandoning her new acquaintances.

So therefore she was educated on all matters surrounding the ring of power, Sauron and enough about Middle Earth to keep her from asking things like 'so we can't fall off eh?'

Gandalf was not keen on the idea of sending Rolanda with Sam and Frodo... but amazingly enough, both Frodo and Sam warmed to the idea of her joining them with greater speed than many would have thought plausible. Especially since Sam and Rolanda had had a less than cordial history, at least on her part. But then again, as soon as the flying instructor had learnt the full history, she became a zealous ally.

"What about Minerva?" she asked, only seconds after they'd finally decided she was to accompany the two hobbits.

Gandalf pursed his lips.

"That must be her own decision."

And though they'd only met ten minutes ago, Rolanda felt respect for the wizard for his obvious care of others.

Three pairs of eyes stared expectantly at Minerva, while Gandalf looked into the dying fire.

He was truly uncertain about what he might have wanted in the situation. Perhaps what he really wanted was for her to go home, where she would be safe. Still, perhaps a touch selfishly, he was glad she had chosen to remain a bit longer. He enjoyed being with her.

* * *

Pomona set Filius' tea down, having taken it over to the pot for a refill. In all actuality she could have easily levitated the pot over or even charmed the cup full, but she was distracted, and she did odd things or at least more muggle things when she was.

"Why do you think they haven't returned yet?" she questioned.

The small man sitting opposite her shrugged.

"I haven't the foggiest." Then noticing how her face fell, he hurriedly continued. "But I'm sure, positive in fact, that they are on their way back, even as we speak." He reached to gently pat her hand.

"Why do you think Minerva would... would want to-" Pomona couldn't say it, her eyes watering.

"A great deal has happened." he reminded, firmly but gentle as ever. Filius was of the sort who could say anything in a warm and caring manner. One of the few left in a dark world who found something good in any situation. And for that alone, not mentioning their long friendship, Pomona believed him.

"We should get something to eat." she murmured, rising to her feet.

He nodded.

"Maybe Mr. Filch would like to join us."

And in fact the care taker did desire company.


End file.
